
LIBRARY^^F CONGRESS. 

Chap.fe-. Copyright No. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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THE KNICKERBOCKER PRESS 

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Coi'YRIGHT, i8g8 

G. p. PUTNAM'S SONS 
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 

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VOICE OF CUPID 



YELLOW ROSES .... 


3 


WHEN LOVE IS DONE . 


6 


SYMPATHY 


7 


CHOCOLATIERE .... 


8 


SPIRIT OF SONG .... 


lO 


WATCHING AT THE GATE 


12 



VOICE FROM RIVERS, LAKES. AND 

MOUNTAINS 

THE HUDSON ...... 17 

RONKONKOMA 2 1 

LAKE CARASALJO 24 

THE ALCHEMIST 26 

MIRAGE OF MOUNT KAATERSKILL . . 32 

THE EPITAPH ...... 35 

VOICE FROM THE SEA 

THE MIDNIGHT SUN 39 

SEA-SURF SONG, OR VOICE OF THE BREAKERS . 42 

MASCONOMO ....... 46 

MINGO BEACH 49 

TIDE OF FORTUNE . . '. . -52 

ZEPHYR 53 

MOONRISE AT SEA 56 



IV 



Contents 



SHIPWRECK 


57 


NEW MOON 


• 58 


WHEN THE TIDE EBBS LOW . 


59 


FOG CURTAIN 


. 60 


VOICE FROM FOREIGN CLIMES 




LEGEND OF MORTERATSCH GLACIER 


• 65 


THE ALBULA PASS 


. 69 


THE POULPICAN 


73 


THE LOUP-GAROU 


• 76 


VOICE OF THE PAST 




CABOT (discoverer OF THE AMERICAN CON- 


TINENT) 


■ 83 


DARK DAYS 


86 


MEMORIES 


. 87 


TO C. L. L 


88 


LOST ILLUSIONS 


92 


YE OLDEN TIME 


9Z 


VOICE OF THE FUTURE 




THE COUNTERSIGN : A MARTIAL EPISODE 


■ 99 


ORIGIN OF " HOLD THE FORT " 


102 


THE BANNERS 


106 


JESUS' DYING WORDS .... 


109 


TRUST 


112 


ANGLO-SAXON 


• 113 


VOICE FROM EVERYWHERE 




FAME 


• 117 


THE FLOWER FAYS .... 


. 118 


BERMUDA LILY 


120 



Contents 







PAGE 


TO V. H. F. 


. 


121 


LITTLE HE AND 


SHE .... 


123 


DEAR CHUBBY HAND .... 


125 


MAYFLOWER . 




126 


MY KOH-I-NOOR. 


(written TO M. C. H.) 


127 


BROKEN HEART 




128 


TO H. R. H. . 




129 


TO M. C. H. . 




131 


THE CHASE . 




133 


LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD . 


T36 


NOTES . 




139 








YELLOW ROSES. 

TIS the " old, old story " of youth 
and maid, 
Through memory's chasms, re-echoing 
low, 
Of rich, yellow roses, a cluster he sent, 
In the long ago— in the long ago. 

A wee dainty note in its heart lay hid, 
'Mong the buds concealed, like a fairy 
sprite, 
" At the ball," it read, " if with me you '11 
wed. 
Wear a rose to-night — wear a rose to- 
night." 

Bewildered by light, by sound and sight. 
With nascent hope his spirit glows. 
Now the heart beats fast, for she comes at last : 
But alas ! no rose — alas, no rose ! 
3 




4 The Seven Voices 

Without one word, unseen, unheard, 

With smothered sigh, and downcast eye; 

With a cheek that burns, and a heart that 
breaks, 
He passes by — he passes by. 

With a breast that throbs, and a brain on fire; 

With bated breath, and a sudden start, 
Her lover's " good-night " to the host she 
hears, 
Like a knell at her heart — like a knell at her 
heart. 

Years many have flown, o'er oceans unknown, 
Tho' roaming, he ever remembers that day ; 

" Lang Syne " is sweet, once more they meet. 
Their locks are gray — their locks are gray. 

'T is a fancy interred in the tomb of our years, 
" Youth has ever," he muses, " for age a 
charm ' ' ; 

So he tells her at last, for the tempest is past, 
And his heart is calm — his heart is calm. 

" Golden roses, as rich as the oriole's wing, 
That day on my heart is engraven, ' ' cries she ; 

" But the note 'mong the roses, so carefully 
hid, 
Was ne'er seen by me — ne'er seen by me." 



Yellow Roses 5 

Then she Hfts with care, from a " casket rare," 
Oft sunned by smiles, oft bedewed by tears, 

The dear yellow roses, still treasured by love. 
Thro' those weary years — thro' those weary 
years. 

Silken cord of the sky's lightest blue she unties ; 

Like a gem in the earth, at that cluster's core 
Rests the dainty, triangular, sweet-scented 
note. 

Never found before — never found before. 

Ah ! there 's many a wreck on time's rough sea, 
That the world knows not — shall never know. 

And there 's many a heart guards its faded rose 
Of the long ago — of the long ago. 




WHEN LOVE IS DONE. 

ROUNDEL. 

WHEN love is done, then is life dark and 
drear, 
Sombre and still, as earth at " set of sun," 
Or like, methinks, some long lost, former year, 
When love is done. 

As sailors seeking rugged rocks to shun. 
When billows break, and beacons disappear. 
Know not, at night, what course their bark to 
run. 

If there is none in all the world most dear. 
Sorrow to soothe — to share my triumphs won, 
For me life hath no joy, and death no fear. 
When love is done. 




SYMPATHY. 



SOURCE of sighing, source of singing, 
Idem Velle, Idem Nolle, 
Hearts through joy and sorrow clinging, 
Wreaths of cypress, wreaths of holly. 

Souls in touch with genius bringing, 
One in mirth, and melancholy, 

Source of sighing, source of singing, 
Idem Velle, Idem Nolle. 

With love burning, with hate stinging, 

Act of wisdom, act of folly. 
Source of sighing, source of singing. 

Idem Velle. Idem Nolle. 




CHOCOLATIERE. 



Written on La Belle CJiocolatiere, the celebrated picture of 
Jean Etienne Liotard in Dresden Gallery. 

MODEST maiden, neat and prim, 
Bodice natty, chic, and trim. 
Tiny, tapered finger-tips, 
Even Hebe can't eclipse. 
She is dainty — she is fair, 
Of which all men are aware, 
That charming little Chocolati^re. 



Hers the quaintest, cutest gown, 
Of a rich and mellow brown. 
Creamy 'kerchief wrapped about, 
While the toes peep in and out. 
She of glances gets her share, 
Of which fact she 's well aware. 
That charming little Chocolatiere. 



Chocolatiere 

Just a petted, pretty pet, 

And a regular coquette. 

Her two lips are sweet and pink, 

And would like— what do you think ? 

For there 's mischief (so take care), 

More than any one 's aware. 

In that charming little Chocolatiere. 



SPIRIT OF SONG. 

ALL sad and lone, to the world unknown, 
Is my soul of music, wild and free, 
For gain sing I, " as the years roll by," 

Till a face of mystic charm I see. 
And a maiden fair, with golden hair, 
Throws a rose to me — red rose to me. 
This flower I give for I take," cries she, 
" Thy melody — thy melody." 

While that flower thrives, in me revives 

The soul of music's sympathy — 
When that flower dies, sweet music hies, 

Deserting me — deserting me. 
" In song both live; my life I give 

To thee," she cries, " my heart's delight! 
And at death's call, for me lets fall. 

Rose pure and white — rose pure and white. 

Now I know, when all I hold in thrall. 
Bound by melodious ecstasy, 

lO 



Spirit of Song 

That angel fair, of the golden hair, 
Gave her life for me — her life for me. 

Her accents dear, methinks I hear — 

" Weird music's power, past mortal ken, 

Entranced with thy sweet song, my soul 
Shall live again — shall live again." 









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WATCHING AT THE GATE. 



WAS the day of our betrothal, with her 
tress the Sun-god played, 
As I hung on every accent of that gentle little 

maid, 
While in tenderest tones she whispered : " Sad 

it is to separate, 
I '11 be watching for you, darling, watching for 
you at the gate." 



Years we 've shared of grief and gladness, 
mingling frequent smiles and tears, 

But our love has only deepened with the flit- 
ting of the years. 

Home returning in the twilight, ever my true- 
hearted mate 

Still is watching for me daily, watching for me 
at the gate. 



Watching at the Gate 13 

Now life's evening shadows lengthen; soon 

upon my ear shall fall 
Notes of drum-beat, long-expected, drum-beat 

sounding the recall, 
Then for you at heaven's threshold, loving, 

longing, I shall wait. 
Still be watching for you, darling, watching for 

you at the gate. 




VOICE t-fl^iji, »;■ 



K 



THE HUDSON. 

OLL, resistless royal River, 
While upon thy bosom quiver, 
Wavelets glancing, lightly dancing, dancing 
'neath the sunlit ray, 
Like the smiles of happy faces, 
Faces which no time erases. 
Though long since they passed away. 

How I love thy springs and fountains, 
Leafy dells, and towering mountains. 

As I people them with figures of the dear ones 
now no more ; 
And the sound my heart rejoices, 
As methinks I hear those voices 
Gently speaking as of yore. 
Mystic veil of awe and wonder. 
Nought save death can rend asunder 

Those partitions thin and fleecy ; while upon the 
threshold stand 
Men against the curtains pressing, 

17 




i8 The Seven Voices 

Still like children idly guessing 
What lies hid in shadow-land. 

Brook from Adirondack springing, 
'Mong the craggy mountains singing, 
Past grim Catskill — sombre bastile, Storm King 
bold, and Old Crow Nest, 
On by camp and fortress dashing. 
Bastions frowning, bayonets flashing, 
Navies bearing on thy breast. 

Lordly park and vine-clad arbour. 
Nestling hamlet, Indian Harbour, 
Crumbling Putnam's ramparts ruined, fateful 
Fort Montgomery : 
Skirting lawns of mansions stately. 
While great cities gaze sedately, 
Haste thee, rushing to the sea. 

Sunnyside's scholastic gables. 
Still replete with fays and fables. 
Sits serenely, quaintly queenly, home of Clio's 
gifted son ; 
Past Manhattan's millions teeming, 
Guarded by the cannon gleaming, 
Wadsworth, and Fort Hamilton. 

Stream of tears, and stream of sadness, 
Stream of mirth, and stream of gladness, 



20 



The Seven Voices 



Veiled in myst'ry, wreathed in hist'ry, sketched 
by Irving, sung by Drake ; 
Dame Van Winkle, ply thy spindle, 
Culprit Fay," thy flame rekindle, 
Hendrick, make thine echoes wake ! 

Castled Rhine and cruel Tiber, 
Names that thrill through every fibre, 
Chivalry of many a clime lies hidden 'neath 
your crest ; 
But great Hudson famed in story, 
Halo of a nation's glory. 
Monarch art thou of the West. 





RONKONKOMA.* 

IN a sea-girt isle is a sand-girt sea, 
Of lustre rare, of tint divine, 
By Phoebus lit, by Zephyr cut. 

Pure diamond from Golconda's mine; 
Fair island nymph for bridal decked, 

By heaven's fragrant breezes fanned, 
By woodland wooed, by woodland won, 

Wed with a ring of golden sand. 
Gleaming alone like the evening star, 

Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma ! 

An Indian maid on its margin dwelt, 

Her liquid name Ronkonkoma, 
Gem of her tribe — her island's pride, 

The Isle of shells — Sewanhacka. 
Hugh Birdsall, paleface, noble and brave, 

By love enchained this goddess of grace; 
But her sire Setauket Sachem swore. 

That wed should she never with foe of her 
race. 



22 The Seven Voices 

Then the youth he banished, and drove afar, 
Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma ! 

On Connetquot's bank in his log-built cot, 

Seven years unseen by human eye, 
For sympathy longing, Hugh lovingly lists 

To the river moan and the sad sea sigh. 
Seven — that mystical marvellous sign. 

Seven — the rays of the rainbow hue. 
Seven — the notes of all music divine. 

Seven long years w^as that maiden true. 
More cruel her sire than Russia's Czar, 

Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma ! 

Deep is the lake as a woman's love. 
Inlet or outlet, no mortal knows, 
j But 'neath the earth by a path unseen, 

i Into Connetquot's stream its water flows. 

I Thither for Hugh each tender gift, 

Through seven weary, dreary years. 
Dropped on the bosom of the lake, 

In Connetquot's wavelets reappears. 
Of her pure love these tokens are, 
Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma ! 

One eve, on the river comes floating a scroll, 
Upon it engraven: " To-morrow, to thee. 

As reward of affection true and tried. 

Thy long-loved bride returned shall be." 



Ronkonkoma 23 

Next morn more bright ne'er beamed the sun; 

A bark is seen on the glittering tide ; 
Around it are garlands of jasmine and rose, 

Within it is seated his beautiful bride, 
Dead — sailing alone in her funeral-car, 

Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma ! 

Swift into the skiff by her side leaps Hugh, 

Drifting far out on the ocean's wave. 
If together on earth they cannot dwell, 

They 're together forever beyond the grave. 
For her sweet sake still weeps the lake ; 

Years seven it rises, years seven it falls. 
For the martyr maid by sire slain. 

Thro' hemlocks, wailing, the wild wind calls; 
It shrieks from near, it answers from far, 

*' Ronkonkoma — Ronkonkoma! " 





LAKE CARASALJO. 

ON the banks of Carasaljo where the rose 
and oak entwine, 
And the dangle-alder revels in the winter's 

warm sunshine, 
Interlocking, interlacing, in impenetrable frieze. 
There the wavelets glint and glance, 
There the sparrows chirp and dance 
To " the music of the old pine trees." 



Lately clad in robe of ermine, tufts of ice on 

silvery snow, 
Now she rests in silk cerulean, shimmering in 

the sunbeam's glow. 
24 



Lake Carasaljo 25 

By this lake of beauty strolling, lovers bask in 
bowers of ease. 

With tones subdued and sweet, 

Their hearts in rapture beat 

To " the music of the old pine trees." 

See, the redcoats with their rushing steeds 

arouse the rosy morn ; 
Hark, the fragrant firs re-echo to the hardy 

huntsman's horn ; 
And the fox, through fen and forest, from her 
fleet pursuers flees. 

While clattering chargers' feet 

A rattling quickstep beat 

To " the music of the old pine trees." 

Columns stately, finely fluted, rear their lofty 

forms on high ; 
Branches, bending, trace a fretwork 'gainst the 

azure of the sky ; 
Through " Cathedral aisle " and arches, calmly 
breathes the balmy breeze. 

While the leaves are softly swung. 

And the hymn is sweetly sung 

To " the music of the old pine trees." 




THE ALCHEMIST. 

A LEGEND VERSIFIED AND ADAPTED. 

NESTLED a cave 'mong the dark waving 
hemlocks, deep 'neath the Kaaterskills' 
towering height ; 
Toiled a tall figure — gaunt, wrinkled, and aged, 
locks long and silvery, streaming and white. 
Far from mankind with their joys and their 
sorrows ; far from the world with its bustle 
and strife ; 
Petrus the Alchemist, Petrus the Alchemist — 
seeking for aye the Elixir of life. 



Ne'er had the furnace before roared so fiercely ; 

ne'er shone the mixture so golden and 

bright ; 
Bubbled the cauldron, and o'er-boiled the 

liquid, while eyes of the Alchemist gazed 

with delight. 

26 



The Alchemist "^^ 

Molten mass marvellous, gleefully dancing; low 
murmurs Petrus in tremulous strains — 

" One last ingredient, one last ingredient — 
naught now is wanting save blood from 
young veins." 

Entered Katrina, maid merrily singing, loving 
as noble, and gentle as brave, 

Urged by her sire, unflinching, heroic, her arm 
round and fair to the lancet she gave. 

Wild raved the liquor within the deep caul- 
dron, rose to the brim, and leapt over the 
top ; 

Fell the blood silently, fell the blood silently — 
slowly and solemnly, drop after drop. 

Weird 'mid the smoke rose a spectre gigantic; 
glaring and wild gleamed his round eyes of 
fire; 

Deep were his tones with an accent sepulchral, 
while flames 'round the cauldron leapt 
higher and higher. 

" Monarch am I of the spirits of water, spirits 
of earth and the spirits of air, 

As the Eumenides', as the Eumenides' — fear- 
ful my anger, thus mortal beware! 

" Petrus, oh Petrus! thy heart wish is granted ; 
crown of life's labor conferred upon thee; 



28 The Seven Voices 

Quaff but the drops in the depth of this caul- 
dron, thou from that moment immortal 
shalt be. 

Taste of it, taste of it, vigor returns again ; 
drink of it, drink of it, and thou shalt find 

Youth is perpetual, youth is perpetual — sub- 
ject no more to the laws of mankind. 

" Quaff it, but harbour no tender emotion, tears 

at man's sorrow, or joy in his weal; 
Noble devotion, or sympathy generous, rapture 

of love ne'er again shalt thou feel. 
Words that I utter, remember, remember — 

unless thou the passions of man canst defy, 
Broken the spell again, broken the spell again 

— mortal thou art, and forthwith shalt 

thou die." 

Words were scarce spoken, scarce vanished the 

spectre, beneath the low portal a woman 

appears; 
" Tell me, good youth, where, oh where is my 

husband — Petrus Van Rensselaer, well 

stricken in years ? " 
Mutely he gazes, " I 'm Petrus," he mutters; 

" Petrus, the Alchemist ; thou art my wife. 
Petrus victorious, Petrus victorious — Petrus 

has quaffed the Elixir of Life." 



The Alchemist 29 

Weak on the ground in a faint lay Katrina, 

circled by clusters of rich golden hair; 
Beside her, next moment, was kneeling the 

good wife, the wound gently dressing with 

tenderest care. 
" Petrus thus cruel and heartless, why art 

thou, daughter forgetting and thoughtless 

of wife ? 
Katrina thou, slayest, Katrina thou slayest — 

mindful of naught save thy self-centred 

hfe." 



Mirror he grasps, in amazement beholding his 
figure, tall, graceful, face rosy and round ; 

Smooth is the skin, flushed with vigor of man- 
hood, a head with black tresses, in rich 
masses crowned. 

Callously gazing on daughter and wife : " I will 
fly," whispers he, " to some far-distant 
shore. 

Handsome and young again, handsome and 
young again — me as her spouse shall she 
claim nevermore." 

Many a winter the forests have whitened ; home 
has he none, and no friend can he find. 

Aimless he wanders, uncared for and lonely, 
restless his heart, and uneasy his mind. 



30 The Seven Voices 

Once more the vale of his labors he visits, for 
a season unseen, though still dear to his 
heart ; 

Crags of the Kaaterskill, crags of the Kaater- 
skill — region of poetry, region of art. 

Nigh to the cave dwells his daughter Katrina, 

happy and true in her quaint little cot; 
Now is she telling to husband and children, a 

tale oft-repeated, though never forgot. 
High curls the smoke from his fragrant tobacco, 

her head on his arm at his earnest behest ; 
Beaming and radiant, beaming and radiant — ■ 

clasping a bright baby boy to her breast. 

Seen through the window this picture by 

Petrus, melted to tears, he his boyhood 

recalls, 
Lost is the magic of potent elixir; again weak 

and old 'gainst the casement he falls. 
Forth comes Katrina, her sire embracing: ' Tis 

but too true, as the spectre had said. 
Softened by sympathy, softened by sympathy 

— down course the tears, and old Petrus is 

dead. 

Echoes the story of Petrus the Alchemist, 
softly and sadly in many a heart. 



The Alchemist 31 

Men, in a moment of folly and madness, with 

earth's choicest blessings most willingly 

part ; 
Lone, weary wanderers, loveless, unloving, like 

to lost spirits they ceaselessly rove. 
Waifs of the universe, waifs of the universe — 

Better is death than to live without love. 





MIRAGE OF MOUNT KAATERSKILL. 




LO ! a blinding storm is raging — 
Inky blackness, boding ill; 
Clouds and wind wild warfare waging, 
On the lofty Kaaterskill. 

Hark! to Hendrick Hudson bowling! 

Mark our pulses throb and thrill! 
Peal, those echoes ringing, rolling. 

Thro' the chasms of Kaaterskill.* 

Lightning flashing, timbers crashing, 
Deluge like the torrents fall, 

Cloud with fury 'gainst cloud clashing 
Shouts with roaring thunder call. 

Tempest o'er — like carpet spreading— 
'Neath the clouds the vale is seen ; 

Hudson gray his way still threading, 
Silken skein of silvery sheen. 



Mirage of Mount Kaaterskill 

Like Mahomet's coffin, shining 
Hangs a banner, fleecy-white; 

Vapory wrestlers, arms entwining, 
Burst on my enraptured sight. f 

Curtain clouds with beauty beaming. 
Lit with liquid light they shine; 

High in heaven with glory gleaming. 
Like the cross of Constantine. 

On yon clouds a picture, showing 
Mountain peak whereon I stand. 

Bridge and buildings clearly glowing 
Airy glimpse of fairy-land. 

Scenes of earth and human dwelling, 
Panorama strangely grand. 

Mystic thoughts to mortals telling. 
Traced by the Creator's hand. 

Palaces with radiance streaming, 
Towers, turrets, throned on high ; 

Citadel, with splendors teeming. 
Like the mansions in the sky ! 

Hearts are hieing, larks are flying. 
Mirage melting, all is still; 

Night is sighing, day is dying, 
On the crested Kaaterskill, 



34 The Seven Voices 

Happy childhood's dream elysian, 
Never can come back to me; 

So is that ecstatic vision, 
Gone for all eternity. 

Thou celestial view transcendent, 
Rapturous glimpse — of bliss a taste, 

Oh, forever shine resplendent, 

Bright in memory's dreary waste. :{; 



THE EPITAPH. 

VERSIFIED AND ADAPTED. 

IN Catskill town, as I am told, 
There dwelt in days of yore, 
Nathaniel Strange, a worthy man, 
Well learned in legal lore. 

" Good wife," spake he, " when on this sphere 

In death I close mine eyes, 
Nought on my tomb inscribe save, ' Here 

An honest lawyer lies.' 

" No man your name will know," quoth she; 

" Prithee your purpose change." 
" Whoe'er," cried he, those words shall see, 

Will say: ' Why that is Strange.' " 



35 



^* /^ ( > 







37 




MIDNIGHT SUN. 



ON Arctic's silvery sea 'tis noon of night, 
Gray with a myriad years* gigantic shape, 
Rises bare, bald, and bold the proud North 
Cape, 
From limpid waves that laugh in liquid light. 
O rock : while Europe sleeps her safety guard 
Through centuries, thou sentinel storm- 
scarred ! 



With searching gaze the broad horizon scan ; 
No human life this and the pole between; 
No shrub — no tree — no flower — no leafy 
green. 
Consider thine own littleness, oh man' 
39 




Midnight Sun 



41 



Nought, nought save air and sky, save ice 

and sea, 
High soars the soul in rapturous reverie. 

With holy light man's vision is endued. 

His hopes, ambitions, wars, all phantoms 

seem, 
Dominions, thrones, and dynasties — a 
dream ; 
Merge worldly thoughts in vast infinitude. 
Rocks melt to elements that gave them birth, 
An atom in the solar system earth. 

Rests on the wave a lustrous orange mist, 
And on the mist gray vapory wings arise 
With golden fringe, supporting radiant skies 

O'er sparkling crests, by luminous softness 
kissed. 
Monarch of day rules with imperial might. 
The ocean bathing in ethereal light. 

Heart of the universe whence vigor springs, 
From orb uncurtained regal splendor flows: 
With life it throbs, it palpitates, it glows; 

His broadening beams the King of midnight 
flings. 
Vanquished is night — of all his glory shorn, 
On rolls the Sun — another day is born. 




SEA-SURF SONG, OR VOICE OF THE 
BREAKERS.>-- 

SOUNDS of sorrow, sounds of sadness, in a 
slow, sweet strain, 
Songs of saint, and songs of sinner, like the 

soul's refrain, 
Swiftly singing, softly sighing, thro' my seeth- 
ing brain. 

Sitting by the sad, sad sea. 

Moan ! majestic mighty monster, as they 

moaned of yore ; 
Rush ! returning, rolling, rearing, with a rude 

rough roar ; 
Dash ! curvetting, reaching, screeching, to the 

sharp sheer shore, 

Creature of the sad, sad sea. 

Shout ! sagacious, scheming Satyr with satanic 
glee, 

Shrill as though 'neath sleepless surface, sen- 
tient soul should be. 



# ^t 




44 The Seven Voices 

Since sage and savage, shelter, succour, sought 
from thee. 

Spirit of the sad, sad sea. 

Shine! as sculptured slab, the surging surf 

shows shroudless grave, 
Sing the ceaseless, cheerless chanting, as for 

souls to save ; 
Sage schismatic, saint scholastic, sovereign, 

shah and slave. 

Sleeping 'neath the sad, sad sea. 



Surf, as sinuous serpents shining, while the sea- 
gulls soar. 

Shriek! as shameless shades of sheol, shackled 
souls forlore. 

Shake! as steers their shoulders shaggy on the 
shelving shore. 

Shuddering by the sad, sad sea. 

Crashing, crumbling, creaking, crackling, is the 

craft cut down. 
Caught by creeping, crawling creatures, that 

brave crew drown. 
Crushed 'mong cruel crags cretaceous, clutch 

the Christian's crown. 

Sinking 'neath the sad, sad sea. 



Sea-Surf Song 45 

Look how Lambda lingers, laughing, from her 

lair on high, 
List the wavelets learning lyrics 'neath the 

lofty sky. 
As the listless lovers languish floating lightly 

by, 

Sailincf o'er the smooth, smooth sea. 



Lenten litanies low lisping thro' the long, lone 

night, 
Longing, loyal, loving legion, may our souls 

take flight. 
By Luna's lanes of lustre to the land of light, 
Gliding o'er the glad, glad sea. 



MASCONOMO.^ 




5f 



BY the moonlit waves I wandered, 
Happy-hearted — fancy-free, 
On the sands of Masconomo, 
Masconomo by the sea. 

Hark! a harp I hear aeolian, 

Gently touched by mystic hands. 

Music of my every footfall, 

Music of the " singing sands " : 

Nature's symphony majestic. 

Melody my spirit craves, 
Wondrous songs, all weird and wordless. 

To the rhythm of the waves. 

Beauteous beach by headlands guarded. 
Craggy cliff and towering ledge, 

Gemmed with roses, crowned with forests. 
Forests to the ocean's edge. 
46 



Masconomo 



47 



Gently towards me trips a dryad, 

Fairy figure, free from fear. 
Words of all those songs mysterious, 

Whispering softly in my ear: 

" Mortal, canst thou hear that cadence. 
Cadence solemn, soft, and slow ? 

Of Hesperus' wreck the sands are telling. 
Tearful tale of ' Normans' woe.' 

" Treacherous reef whereon she foundered 

In the dreamy days of yore, 
Shrieks of wounded, groans of dying. 

Dashed on Essex' rocky shore. 

" Sing they now of Indian war-dance. 
As the billows rise and swell : 

Tawny creatures— fierce, fantastic, 
Shouting their barbaric yell. 

" War-whoop wild of Masconomo 
Wafted on the midnight breeze. 

Chieftain, with his braves rejoicing 
Over hard-won victories. 




--^T^' 



" Sing the sands of youth and maiden, 
Eyes of blue, and raven hair. 

While the cadence quickly changes 
To an Andalusian air. 



48 The Seven Voices 

" He, rare type of manly beauty, 
Tall and stalwart — from the north ; 

She, a southern maiden, ardent, 

List! the lovers plight their troth." 

Harkening to her accents gentle, 

I in rapt attention stood. 
Paused the dryad — sad and silent, 

Glided to her native wood. 

Mem'ries dear of Masconomo — 

Quaint the rhythm, rich the rhyme- 
In my mind and heart re-echo. 

Singing thro' the " sands of time." 

When I muse how once I wandered, 
Treading lightly, fancy-free. 
Singing sands " of Masconomo, 
Masconomo by the sea. 




".^ ^ 



MINGO BEACH. 

WOULDST thou know a sylvan spot. 
By the sea ? 
An ideal fairy grot ? 

Come with me. 
There the ocean currents flow, 
There the briny breezes blow ; 
To the cliffs the flowers cling, 
To the rocks the wavelets sing. 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 

Jutting headland bounds the sight — 

Beverly ; 
Far extending on the right, 

Wild and free. 
Clouds like eagles' wings outspread, 
O'er the tower of Marblehead ; 
While to cliffs the flowers cling, 
While to rocks the wavelets sing, 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 

49 



50 The Seven Voices 

Curves like bending bow the shore, 

'Round the bay, 
With its cord of islands four. 

Far away. 
And the rays of light on high, 
Shoot like arrows in the sky ; 
While to cliffs the flowers cling, 
While to rocks the wavelets sing, 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 

Pick the fruit of ruddy hue, 

'Mong the sand ; 
Pluck the tiny asters blue. 

On the strand ; 
'Neath the crags with forest crowned, 
Precipice by ocean bound ; 
While to cliffs the flowers cling, 
While to rocks the wavelets sing. 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 

Willows bending o'er the wave 

Gently sway ; 
Lichens rare their tresses lave. 

Bathed in spray. 
Barberry, with berries red, 
Golden-rod, with plumed head ; 
While to cliffs the flowers cling, 
While to rocks the wavelets sing. 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 



Mingo Beach 

Eagle Rock and Lowell's Isle, 

Two bright eyes, 
Softly twinkle, sweetly smile, 

In the skies. 
Watching o'er this happy shore, 
Gently watching, evermore ; 
While to cliffs the flowers cling. 
While to rocks the wavelets sing, 
On beauteous Mingo Beach. 



TIDE OF FORTUNE. 

I GAZED on the ocean's billowy crest ablaze 
with sunset glow, 
And watched its dainty wavelets dance when 
the tide was ebbing low. 

Seaweed in clusters stormy waves had washed 

upon the sand, 
Receding leaving them forlorn, deserted on the 

strand. 

So mortal man, by fortune's wave, to some 

great height is hurled, 
Then stranded, left forsaken, sad, on the rocks 

of the flinty world. 






ZEPHYR. 

FROM Elberon sands I fondly gaze 
Across the sea — across the sea, 
For she in yonder land still roams. 
The world to me— the world to me. 

While lovingly the cradling waves 

Are chanting Nature's lullaby, 
White, fleecy, feathery cloudlets float. 

Athwart the sky— athwart the sky. 

The western zephyrs gently kiss 

Winged brigantines swift sailing by; 

Glad sunbeams, mingling with the waves, 
Wed earth and sky— wed earth and sky. 

There comes a thought with terror fraught. 
This self same hour— With whom is she ? 

If I by her should be forgot, 
Ah, woe is me — ah, woe is me. 

53 




54 The Seven Voices 

" A message to the maid I love, 

Sweet zephyr, wilt thou bear for me, 

And waft it to her own pure heart. 
Across the sea — across the sea ? 

" Tell her I 'm sad and drear and lone; 
' Tell her I pine on this bleak shore ; 
Tell her I long for that sweet face 
Which I adore — which I adore. 

" That I know none like her, not one; 

That night by night, and day by day, 
Since in her loving eyes I gazed, 

For her I pray — for her I pray, 

" Say that for her my soul would seek 
Thro' this wide world's immensity; 

For her my spirit yearns with deep 
Intensity — intensity. 

With winged steeds the zephyr speeds : 
Has ceased the breeze, when suddenly — 

A breath upon my burning brow. 

Comes o'er the sea — comes o'er the sea. 

List ! in the air a whispering voice : 
" Unchanged her heart shall ever be, 

Thy love she shares, has heard thy prayers. 
She 's true to thee — she 's true to thee." 



Zephyr 55 

" Thy voice, sweet zephyr, cheers my heart. 
She 's true to me — she 's true to me! 

Thy words I trust ; she 's mine thro' all 
Eternity — eternity- 



er,^^ 




MOONRISE AT SEA. 

MID earthly vapors yon red moon 
Distorted rises from the sea, 
But e'er attaining midnight's noon, 
Reigns in imperial majesty. 

So men, their souls by passion dim, 

"With flickering lamps earth's pathway trod. 

Ascended now, bright seraphim, 

In Heaven they shine, the saints of God. 



56 



SHIPWRECK. 

FIERCELY rages the storm; through the 
fog looms a craft, 
Great billows roll over the deck ; 
On the beach lies a lad — stiff, pallid, and cold, 
Just snatched from the foundering wreck. 

Lag slowly the hours — his color returns; 

He wearily opens his eyes: 
" Oh, tell me, my friends, where 's the ship, 
where am I, 

And where is the captain ? " he cries. 

" The mate and the captain and crew one and 
all. 

Have found the brave mariner's grave ; 
The whitecaps their slabs, the ocean their tomb. 

For their shroud, the wide, watery wave. 

" You alone of all those, the good Dolphin 
aboard. 
Are saved from the pitiless sea; " 
With thankful emotion through tears he ex- 
claims: 
** Then mother 's been praying for me." 
57 



^*^- 



NEW MOON. 



TIS the mystic time of twilight, sweetest 
hour of the day, 
Falling are the evening shadows over Massa- 
chusetts Bay. 

High o'er Marblehead's grim tower, shining 

faintly, I descry 
Moon, newborn — a slender flamelet — like a 

candle in the sky. 

Close against my shoulder nestles golden, 

flaxen, curly head; 
Ready is my precious darling for his dainty 

little bed. 

Me, absorbed in contemplation, from the reverie 

arouse 
Words my boy is softly saying: " See that light 

up in God's house." 



WHEN THE TIDE EBBS LOW. 

ROUNDEL 

WHEN the tide ebbs low, reigns a deep 
sense of rest ; 
Old ocean hath secrets no mortal need know, 
Hidden deep 'neath her breast, which by her 
are confessed. 

When the tide ebbs low. 

The heart hath its tides fiercely surging below. 

Oft phantoms pursuing at Plutus' behest, 
With sorrow recede and with pleasure reflow. 

So life hath its tides, mortals ride on the crest ; 
Let but the stream languish, be feeble and 
slow. 
They sink out of sight like a star in the west. 
When the tide ebbs low. 



FOG CURTAIN. 

ON the Jersey sands I silently muse, as I 
list to the ocean's roar, 
And mark the delicate rim of lace foam-curv- 
ing on the shore; 
Beyond are the valleys and crested peaks of a 

boundless billowy sea, 
Though at my feet falls a vale of mist which 
hides them all from me. 
But the mist shall drift, 
And the cloud shall rift. 
And the curtain of fleecy fog shall lift. 

Bewitchingly fair are the castles we build, as 

we stand on the threshold of life. 
And little think we of the cares of the world, 

with its sorrows, its toil, and its strife — 
Of the mountains to climb, of the deserts to 

cross, and the perils that often befall. 
'T is well that a hand all-wise has dropped a 

curtain concealing them all. 
60 



Fog Curtain 6i 



But the mist shall drift, 
And the cloud shall rift, 
And the curtain of fleecy fog shall lift. 

Ah, the day will come — for come it must — 

when each shall be standing alone, 
With a trembling hand and a faltering foot on 

the shore of a land unknown. 
From the ken of men concealed there lies a 

region beyond the skies. 
But soon shall shine that light divine, on our 
wondering raptured eyes. 
For the mist shall drift, 
And the cloud shall rift, 
And the curtain of fleecy fog shall lift. 




63 




LEGEND OF MORTERATSCH 
GLACIER.* 



1SING the age of minstrelsy that poets' 
hearts adore, 
Of troubadours, and chivalry, and legendary 
lore. 



'T was in that vale of happiness where sadness 

were a sin. 
That gladsome glade of Engadine, the garden 

of the Lin. 



Where a thousand charms the Arctic and the 

Temperate disclose, 
And beside perpetual snows we cull the daisy 

and the rose. 

65 



66 The Seven Voices 

Where Silverplana, Celerina, Pontresina He, 
And the pinnacles of Languard and Bernina 
pierce the sky. 

Well known and loved was good Eratsch by 

the peasants far and wide, 
While his father's flocks he guarded on that 

lonely mountain side. 

Of Gretchen's grace and loveliness one half 

has ne'er been told. 
Of her glorious dark and dreamy eyes, and her 

locks of waving gold ; 

Of her constancy, nobility, her sympathy 
divine. 

Her purity like crystal ball, the prize of Shin- 
too Shrine. 

Oh, her earnest eyes were brilliant, and her 
happy heart was light. 

And her dainty dairy duties were her day- 
dream of delight. 

Dizzy crags together climbing, summits scaling 

bold and grand. 
That old legend quaint adopting: " Heart and 

Hand for Alpenland." 



Legend of Morteratsch Glacier 67 

Then Eratsch, by passion ardent, while the rays 

of setting sun 
Tinged the peaks of snow with a rosy glow, 

that maiden wooed and won. 

In the cottage, for her lover, gentle Gretchen 

sadly sighed. 
For her parents, hard and heartless, vowed she 

ne'er should be his bride. 

Warmly loved and warmly loving, tears to 

hide in vain she tried, 
And like Juliet broken-hearted softly groaned, 

and moaned, and died. 

True Eratsch forever roaming, no one knows 

save God above, 
His charity, his rarity of all-consuming love. 

Gretchen's parents, greatly grieving, grieve 

thro' all their days to come. 
Leave the vale, and strangers haughty fill that 

former happy home. 

Still her saintly spirit wanders, 'mid the scenes 

she loved before ; 
Still her favorite cows attending, tending as in 

days of yore. 



68 The Seven Voices 

Gretchen's love those strangers know not, and 

her spirit drive away ; 
Thro' the vale she wanders wailing, night by 

night and day by day. 

Trouble henceforth rules that hearthstone, and 

ere many moons have run. 
Illness 'mong the flocks appearing, die the 

cattle every one. 

Down the steep the snows are creeping, cover- 
ing all that pasture-land. 

Monument majestic rearing, masterpiece of 
God's own hand. 

Form colossal, carved recumbent, calmly, 

queenlike, shall endure, 
As Carrara's marble spotless, and as Gretchen's 

spirit pure. 

Thro' their former homes that spirit roams re- 
calling mem'ries dear, 

" II est mort, Eratsch," repeating o'er and 
o'er, in accents clear. 

Flocks, the faithful shepherds watching, her 

weird words but faintly catch. 
And that Glacier forever, hence they call the 

" Morteratsch." 




THE ALBULA PASS. 

(From Coire to St. Moritz in the Engadine Valley.) 

THE silvery chimes in Cathedral spire 
Peal, peal, as we roll along, 
On the mountain side we rise higher, and 
higher, 
List, list, to the Alpen song. 

Oh Castle of Belfort barren and bare, 
Mourn, mourn, for thy warriors bold 

Muse on thy Knights and ladies fair, 
Grieve, grieve o'er the days of old. 



No feudal banner from turreted walls. 

Floats, floats, as once of yore ; 
And victory's shout thro' thy banquet halls 

Thrills, thrills now no more. 
69 



70 The Seven Voices 

Thou Castle Churwalden proud piercing the 
sky 
Wail, wail, till thy days are done : 
Where now are thy Counts with their lineage 
high ? 
Dead, dead is every one. 

No foe could desire destruction more dire. 

Drear, drear, as Chorazin, 
On thy towers are written in letters of fire 

" Mene, mene, tekel upharsin," 

Tho' dark are thy deeds, as thy donjon keep, 
Peace, peace, have no more fears; 

For to blot out thy sins e'en the heavens weep, 
Rain, rain, silent tears. 

Thro' hamlet with roses and clambering vine 
Fresh, fresh, as the month of May, 

And thro' Alveneu basking in merry sunshine, 
Dash, dash on our winding way. 

Like William the Silent, Berguner-stein, 

Gaze, gaze, across the wave, 
And roar thou miniature pearly Rhine, 

Rush, rush, his feet to lave. 

Oh, Albula, Albula, glory to thee! 
Calm, calm, while the ages glow, 



72 The Seven Voices 

Enthroned seven thousand above the sea, 
Shine, shine, in thy robe of snow. 

As merrily thro' the pass we ghde 

Sing, sing, ye tinkhng bells; 
While onward we're dashing whatever betide, 

Ring, ring, o'er hills and dells. 

'Mid the glow of the snow and the diamonds 
of ice 

On, on, till the crest is crossed; 
O'er the mountain home of the Edelweiss, 

Blow, blow, thou old King Frost! 

Behold now the Engadine — at its true worth 

Prize, prize, yon fairy grot ; 
The highest inhabited valley on earth, 

Bless, bless, the enchanted spot. 

See Maloya's proud pinnacles ermined with 
snow. 

Sail, sail, ye clouds between ; 
And St. Moritz below in the moonlight glow, 

Queen, Queen, of the Engadine! 




THE POULPICAN.* 

A LEGEND OF BRITANY VERSIFIED. 

TIS ruddy autumn ; laughing sunbeams 
shine 
On cottage home, most quaint of quaint Bre- 

tagne ; 
Neath roof like Jupiter's o'erhanging brow, 
From oaken beam hangs misletoe's green 

bough ; 
While rocks a cradle nigh the open door. 
Gone has Dame Cloar from the spring to draw. 
In tight-laced bodice, and in white-winged cap. 
Her infant leaving for his morning nap. 



The child, fair-skinned, awaking, softly cries, 
Which, wandering by, a Korrigan espies, 
73 



74 



The Seven Voices 



And baby snatching from its cosy bed, 

Her ugly Poulpican puts in its stead; 

Then o'er the elf such glamour deftly throws, 

That e'en poor Catherine no difference knows. 

But she, a buxom dame, robust and tall. 

Marvels the lad continues thin and small. 




'T is night — a sight he sees that makes him 
start, 

A calf the butcher brings in two- 
wheeled cart ; 
One blanket, man, and horse, and 

calf conceals, 
And thus one beast with three 
huge heads reveals. 
I Hard through the casement peers 
with open eyes 
Poor Poulpican ; then in sore won- 
' J' ' der cries: 

" An acorn once before an oak I saw. 
But sight like this I ne'er beheld before." 

When sent the herds to guard on grassy plain, 
The cows he tortures, laughing at their pain; 
Beside the embers, knitting at her ease. 
Marvels the good wife at such acts as these. 
" This dwarf," thinks she, " our offspring can- 
not be ; 
Resolved am I to solve the mystery. 



The Poulpican 75 

If son of ours a priest he will revere, 

But priests a Poulpican regards with fear." 

Then ten-score eggs she breaks; her beads she 

tells, 
And on the hearthstone softly stands the 

shells — 
Like surpliced priests who gentle hearts 

allure — 
In long procession as at the Fete Dieu. 
Dame Cloar watches; Poulpican draws near; 
Soon as the priests he sees, cries he with fear: 

An acorn once before an oak I saw, 
But sight like this I ne'er beheld before." 

Dame Cloar now the powers of darkness dares. 
And the uncanny elf to kill prepares. 
But lo ! her child to save, forthwith appears 
The Korrigan, endowed with power of seers. 

Your son behold ! ' ' cries she in accents weird ; 
" On roots in old Tir-Tarden's Dolmen reared. 
Take, I beseech you, take your little man. 
Give back to me my own dear Poulpican." 

At many a turn in life's dark weary way. 
With Poulpican, in wonderment we say : 

An acorn once before an oak I saw, 
But sight like this I ne'er beheld before." 




^!^ 



THE LOUP-GAROU. 

A LEGEND OF BRITANY VERSIFIED. 

IN the olden days that we love so well, , 
Of which minstrels warble, and poets tell, 
A forest there stood which was fair to see, 
The fairest forest in Britany. 
On a height near by for many a day. 
Frowned a castle with turreted towers grey. 
There dwelt in love and harmony 
A lord and lady of high degree, 
By holy ties of wedlock bound. 
The happiest pair in the country 'round. 
A cloud o'er this Eden, alas, arose! 
And gloomy the sky with fears and woes : 
Then tears were her portion, full many a groan, 
For half of her days was she left alone. 
With womanly ways and stifled sigh, 
She besought from her lord the reason why, 
76 



The Loup-Garou 17 

Till at last he whispered: " I tell you true, 
Naught am I save a wretched Loup-garou, 
Exiled one half my days from home, 
As a wolf in the forest compelled to roam. 
Important, alas! 't is for my weal. 
That I my garments with care conceal. 
For were they stolen, ah ! woe is me, 
Wild wolf forever should I be." 

She heard, and a shudder scarce refrained. 

But devotion ardent basely feigned. 

" Prithee," cried she, " to me confide 

The secret spot where the clothes you hide ! 

There is, my liege, no spouse more true. 

Full well you know, than I to you." 

"In the forest," quoth he, " beyond the 

wheat, 
By the ruined chapel, where cross-roads meet." 
To a cavalier young, handsome, and bold. 
This terrible secret at once she told ; 
And from that day, 't is a fact I ween. 
Her good liege-lord ne'er again was seen. 
Now suitors she had from hither and far, 
For fair was this matron as beauteous star. 
Said they, when consulted, what course to 

pursue, 
" No woman is bound to a Loup-garou." 
Most willingly their advice she took. 
And her faithful spouse forthwith forsook. 



78 The Seven Voices 

Proposal received — she named the day, 
And married the richest without delay. 
Then was sent a summons throughout the 

land, 
A hunt to attend at the King's command. 
One wolf pursued through the fens all day, 
The hungry hounds he held at bay ; 
Though weak and weary and wounded sore. 
Preparing for one fierce struggle more, 
The lordly form of the King he espied ; 
Then reached with one quick dash his side. 
Sadly his shaggy head he shook, 
And gazed in his eyes with beseeching look, 
Licking his foot, and withal behaved 
As though he the royal protection craved. 
Shouted the King : ' "T is enough of these bogs ; 
The hunt is o'er — call off tlie dogs." 
Then followed the wolf to the castle hall, 
And a favorite became with the courtiers all. 

One day with pomp and trumpets' blare 
Was held by the King " cour pleniere." 
From every side, their monarch to please. 
Came barons and vassals of all degrees. 
Stood the wolf at his post by the King — with- 
out fear; 
Gayly entered the cavalier, 
Brilliant in mantle of gold and red. 
Who the wife of the Loup-garou had wed. 



The Loup-Garou 79 

The palace throughout a shrill cry rang. 

For on him the wolf with fury sprang, 

And wildly bit him again and again, 

'Till the cavalier fairly writhed with pain. 

By the faithless spouse was an audience asked : 

'T was granted — the threshold she scarce had 

passed. 
When the wolf, with one bound, off had bitten 

her nose, 
And a terrible tumult forthwith 'rose. 
Rescued the lady — flashed steel in air, 
Ready each noble to do and dare. 
" Here 's a crime," cried the King, " deeply 

hidden I trow ; 
In the castle assemble. I solemnly vow 
The wrong shall be righted, the evil redressed, 
Sheath your swords, every one — and the woman 

arrest ! ' ' 
The donjon fearing, and by the King pressed. 
Her guilt the trembling wretch confessed — 
The story complete — his devotion — her fraud — 
Admitting this wolf was her former lord. 

Still with the mould of the ruin stained, 

The King from the woman, the garments re- 
gained. 

On the floor of his chamber, these clothes 
having thrown, 

With them the poor wolf he then left alone ; 



8o 



The Seven Voices 



And 't is passing strange to relate, that when 
With knights and barons he came again, 
And into the chamber took a peep, 
On his couch his favorite found asleep. 
With tears of joy, arms interlaced, 
His friend long lost once more embraced. 
For him his old affection burned, 
To him his honors he returned : 
Banished by edict just, severe. 
Both faithless spouse, and cavalier. 
Children they had — so the story goes — 
And every girl was without a nose. 

The peasants aver that as gospel true 

Is this wondrous tale of the Loup-garou. 

But one thing is sure, like the wolf in these 

lays, 
Many people are diff'rent on different days. 





^ fl ^ ...^t. fhi? 




^^?|r 



\M 




CABOT.* 

DISCOVERER OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 

HIGH on the crest of the billows' breast, 
Tossed on the surging sea, 
Westerly sails, with heaven-born gales. 
The ship of destiny. 

'T is the break of dawn, a fair June morn! 

Banished are doubts and fears. 
For clear and bright in the liquid light, 

The land long sought appears. 

Now on the sands bold Cabot stands; 

Hark to the welkin ring! 
" This land I claim in Henry's name, 

For England and her king." 
83 



84 



The Seven Voices 



Then a daring few of that dauntless crew 
Plant a cross on the beetling crag; 

And on the shore of Labrador, 
Floats proud old England's flag. 




t?liljal\- 



Cabot the brave — by sage, by slave, 

Thy name be ever blest ; 
Discoverer of America, 

The continent of the west. 



Columbus ne'er its regions fair, 
Nor Vespuccius' eye had scanned 



Cabot 85 

When dangers o'er, thou reached that shore, 
And trod its virgin strand. 

Bright gleams the fame of Henry's name. 

With wisdom, power, renown ; 
But brighter far — America, 

Chief jewel in his crown. 

Each chivalrous feat recount — repeat, 

All that thy sires have done ; 
Their deeds outdo — to God prove true, 

Great England's greatest son. 

Bulwark, I trow, 'mongst nations thou. 

Stand fast, forever sure; 
Uphold, pursue, the right, the true, 

The free, the good, the pure. 

Cabot the great — we dedicate 

Thy monument for aye; 
Cut sharp and clear — a hemisphere — 

Thy name shall never die. 



DARK DAYS. 

ROUNDEL. 

DAYS there are when earth's joys are all 
hidden from view, 
As cages we darken to teach birds to sing — 
Wont to soar in the realms of ethereal blue, 
E'er man, for a thoughtless caprice, trimmed 
their wing. 

When to heaven God wishes men nearer to 
bring, 
And higher and holier aims to pursue — 
Days there are when earth's joys are all hid- 
den from view, 
As cages we darken to teach birds to sing. 

When riches increase, and high honors accrue. 
And fondly to pleasures of time men would 
cling, 
When back from all error and folly to woo. 
Of losses and sorrow he sends them the 
sting; 
Days there are when earth's joys are all hid- 
den from view. 
As cages we darken to teach birds to sing. 



MEMORIES. 



ROUNDEL. 



HAPPY days to recall when life's long 
shadows fall, 
No spell is so potent as sweet perfume. 
Bright joys long forgotten our senses enthrall, 
If but a breeze blow whence the viignoiiettes 
bloom. 



Should the sharp teeth of care weary hours 
consume, 
Should fancies affright, or grim phantoms 

appall, 
Happy days to recall when life's long 
shadows fall, 
No spell is so potent as sweet perfume. 

The veranda star-lit, or that night at the ball — 
The seat 'neath the palms— whispered words 
— and by whom ? 
When leaf-like have faded youth's dreams one 
and all. 
And oppressed is the heart with a feeling of 
gloom : 
Happy days to recall when life's long shadows 
fall,' 
No spell is so potent as sweet perfume. 



87 



TO C. L. L. 

A LARCH with mossy branches, richly 
robed with tender green, 
On Johannesburger nestles, in the vale of 
Engadine. 

A music Eurus murmurs of his own, soft, 
sweet, and low, 

Aloft the slender branches dance, the Edel- 
weiss below. 

No comfort golden glitter gives, 't is a sunny 

sultry seat. 
But on the farther side, behold yon shady, cool 

retreat ! 

No single branch upon that half this stately 

larch has grown. 
Below no grass, in place dead leaves, and 

weather-bronzed stone. 



To C. L. L. 89 

A welcome bed, when strength has sped, to 

rest the weary head, 
'T is Nature's couch of stones, and cones ; for a 

pillow — soft leaves dead. 

Our larch's gown, one half is brovm, by Boreas' 

freezing frown. 
For stern Johannesburger's base out tops proud 

Rigi's crown. 

To man great affluence kindly gives earth's 

pleasures bright tho' brief, 
Faith, hope, and love by sorrow's hand are 

carved in bold relief. 

A double-sided shield is Hfe, one showing 

wealth untold. 
Shining with honours and titles and rank, 

gleaming with glitter and gold. 

In prosperity's sun, when success is won, bloom 

avarice, hatred, and pride; 
But a homelike home, ah ! give to me, I love 

life's shady side. 

Full many women— ballroom dolls, wound up 

to act their part. 
Like the larch are graceful and stately and 

tall — alas ! with no more heart. 



90 The Seven Voices 

But angels on earth there surely are, loving not 

its glitter or show, 
With heavenly virtues shining clear, which a 

ballroom cannot know. 

On a mission of peace, like the holy dove, sent 

down by our Father above, 
Man's earthly home a heaven to make, by 

charity, purity, love. 

Thus spared they are, like a falling star, from 

those bright realms afar. 
This sin-stained earth of ours to show, what 

God's own spirits are. 

Mere phantoms, all these worldly joys, nought 

real save future life. 
Earth's truest bhss a Christian home, blessed 

by a Christian wife. 

Upon my larch-cone couch I rest, there bursts 

upon my sight, 
A face and form on earth beloved, now bright 

with holy light. 

Her fragrant breath is on my cheek, her eyes 

are liquid blue, 
Her tresses, glittering as she glides, are gemmed 

with heavenly dew. 



To C. L. L. 91 

Her graceful arms in drapery clad, her voice 

seraphic said, 
In pleading tones of earnest love, " None but 

a Christian wed." 

I wake— 't was but a day-dream in my cool, 

secluded nook. 
Her arms, the graceful branches, and her silvery 

voice, the brook. 

Her breath, the gentle breeze, her tresses, 

waving moss on high : 
Methought I saw^ her liquid eyes— 't is only 

azure sky. 

'T was all a vision glorious ! I'm still an earthly 

clod ; 
But angel sister, far too pure for earth, thou art 

with God, 




i^m^j^ 



LOST ILLUSIONS. 



(From an ancient saying.) 

TORN by winter's blast, the dead leaves 
From the parent tree must part : 
So our cherished, lost illusions 
Are the dead leaves of the heart. 












-f^^S- 




YE OLDEN TIME. 

WHERE 'S the heart that ne'er longs for 
the glories of yore, 
Nor sighs for the scenes that have sped ; 
Never yearns for a vision of centuries gone, 

And to mingle with heroes long dead? 
Once again the proud temples of Nineveh view 

In the light of the round-setting sun, 
Or through lianging gardens of perfume to 
stroll 
In that far-famed Babylon ? 
Aye the days of old, 
And the lays of old, 
And the wondrous, witching ways of old ! 



Who would not, with Horace, and Albius 
quaff 
The " ardent Falernian " wine ? 

93 



94 The Seven Voices 

Who would not with vahant LucuUus.f at ease, 

On tricHnium cahnly recHne, 
The renowned Painted Porch with wise Zeno 
haunt, 
Learn all that the Stoics could know? 
Fierce fiery accents in falling receive 
From the lips of rare Cicero ? 
Aye the days of old, 
And the lays of old, 
And the wondrous, witching ways of old! 

Luxurious leisure fain would we enjoy, 

With noble, serene dignity. 
From turmoil, and turbid, tumultuous toil, 

Of this modern century free: 
When Sir Lancelot's lance, held in rest, 
brightly shone. 
While garlands entwined 'round the point, 
E'er masses, with classes, their wild warfare 
waged. 
And the times had become out of joint. 
Aye the days of old. 
And the lays of old. 
And the wondrous, witching ways of old ! 

The powdered marquise shall we ne'er again 
see. 

Nor gentry in velvet and hose ? 
Regard for the peasant, respect for the peer, 

With courtly and high-bred repose ? 



Ye Olden Time 95 

Then liveried servants in quaint sedan-chair, 

Bore ladies in satins within, 
But the maiden to-day dons bloomers or tights. 
And goes on her "bike " for a " spin." 
Aye the days of old, 
And the lays of old, 
And the wondrous, witching ways of old ! 

With Elizabeth feast, and with Raleigh carouse, 

In Kenilworth's banqueting-hall. 
Watch the fair Antoinette, light-hearted, and 

gay, 

Tread a dance at the Tuileries ball; 
The tourney to enter, the prizes to win. 

From chivalrous warriors bold : 
Henry Eighth, and Francis the First to behold, 
On the " Field of the Cloth of Gold." 
Aye the days of old, 
And the lays of old. 
And the wondrous, witching ways of old ! 



-"JSJj^^^Si 




i^-*^€ 



,■^^"' ""^" 3^ 



r:^ 



Y W 



fm K^ 



97 




THE COUNTERSIGN. 

A MARTIAL EPISODE. 

IN the camp it is night, e'en the wind 's 
moaning low ; 
All is still save the tramp of the guard to and 
fro. 

At the outpost the picket his weary watch 
keeps, 

Thro' the clouds Dian peeps, while the uni- 
verse sleeps. 

Mark that sound on the ground — someone 

climbing the steep ; 
Branches break— thro' the lines he is seeking 

to creep. 

99 



loo The Seven Voices 

' ' Who goes there ? ' ' On the air ring the tones 

clear and strong, 
" 'T is a friend," cries a voice, weak from 

journeying long. 

" Then advance, friend, advance, and the 

countersign give. 
Otherwise," sentry cries, " none this line pass, 

and live. 

" Strict our orders to-night — disobey I dare 

not — 
All without countersign, on the spot, must be 

shot." 

For God's sake let me live! brave, loyal man 
I, 
Just escaped prison dungeons — and now, must 
I die ? 

" If by friends I 'm forgot, dark and dreary my 

lot, 
Weak and weary and lone, but the password 

know not ! 

I 'm a true boy in blue, but not ready to die, 
Send me not, unprepared, to the great God on 
high!" 



The Countersign loi 

" Your sorrow I share, but your life cannot 
spare, 

Brief moment I grant you, for death to pre- 
pare." 

Softly whispers the guard, as time ebbs to a 

close, 
" If the stranger be loyal, great God inter- 



Lo ! the wanderer there, wrapt in deep fervent 

prayer. 
Makes the sign of the Cross, with his finger in 

air. 

Rushing forward apace, rapture lights the 
guard's face. 

While the stranger he clasps in fraternal em- 
brace. 

" You are saved by God's might," cries the 
guard, with delight, 

" For the sign of the Cross is the password to- 
night! " 

So when mortals are passing the portals divine, 
True faith in the Cross is the soul's countersign. 




ORIGIN OF "HOLD THE FORT."* 

DAY has dawned at Allatoona, and the rays 
of rising sun 
Are greeted by the battle's roar and peaHng 
Parrott gun. 

Loud above the blast of bugles, loud above the 

beating drums, 
Sound the rattle of the musketry and bursting 

of the bombs. 



Now surrounded is the fortress, its defenders* 

hope ebbs low ; 
Unconditional surrender is demanded by the 

foe. 



Origin of '* Hold the Fort" 103 

Danger daring, men are dying, martyrs to their 

country's love, 
While each instant, swiftly fleeting, wafts a 

hero's heart above. 

"Courage, comrades! see the signal of the 

leader we adore 
Far aw^ay across the valley, waving on Mount 

Kenesaw! " 

Wondrous message, calmly floating, high above 

the battle's flame, 
" Hold the fort, for I am coming! " with the 

might of Sherman's name. 

From the fort one shout arises — glorious, joy- 
ful, thrilling cry — 

" We '11 defend our country's standard; we '11 
defend it till we die! " 

Noble hearts to dust returning, life-blood give 

to nature's sod; 
Patriots for true glory yearning, yield their 

souls to Nature's God. 

'Mid the havoc and the carnage of the deadly 

rifle-ball, 
Battling bravely, fighting fiercely, more than 

half their numbers fall. 



I04 The Seven Voices 

Look ! what means that dust-cloud moving, 
what that distant sound we hear ? 

Standards, horsemen, Sherman's vanguard — 
our deliverers draw near. 

Heroes of that march " Thro' Georgia from 
Atlanta to the Sea," 

Rolling like a wave, resistless, plunge that fear- 
less cavalry. 

Thro' the valley, like a whirlwind, gallant 

chargers snorting sweep ; 
Waving plumes and helmets gleaming, up the 

steep they wildly leap. 

To the rescue! nearer, clearer, sound victorious 

trumpet-calls, 
Sabres flashing, madly dashing, dashing to the 

fortress walls. 

At this sudden apparition — dazed with frenzy 

by the sight, 
Southern haughty host chivalric, panic-stricken, 

takes to flight. 

Laurels! for the fort's defenders; laurels! for 
their perils braved ; 

Laurels! for that flag is rescued, and that cita- 
del is saved. 



Origin of " Hold the Fort" 105 

Legions still the spot are guarding; o'er their 

graves green grows the grass, 
Guarding Fortress Allatoona, in the Allatoona 

Pass. 

Wisely has the Church adopted Sherman's 

message as its own : 
' ' Hold the fort, for I am coming ! ' ' echoes loud 

from zone to zone. 

In the Gothic nave that anthem the cathedral 

choir sings, 
While 'neath high arch and " vaulted dome" 

the pealing organ rings. 

From Asia's shore to Labrador, where'er the 

sails are furled, 
Of the Anglo-Saxon argosies — those " Mis- 

sioners " of the world, 

A myriad gladsome voices have that hearty 
chorus caught, 

" Hold the fort, for I am coming — I am com- 
ing, hold the fort ! ' ' 




THE BANNERS. 

ANTILLES' Queen serenely 
Rules realms of liquid wave 
Beside an open coffin, 

Beside an open grave, 
Columbia's son is standing, 
Beneath the vaulted sky, 
Alone, unarmed, and friendless — 
Guiltless, condemned to die. 



The captive's arms are pinioned, 
Close-bandaged are his eyes, 

In line the troops are marshalled, 
" Load! Aim! " the captain cries. 
1 06 



The Banners 107 

Appear forthwith two consuls, 

Their hearts brave thoughts inspire, 

Ere time is given the captain 
For that fatal order, " Fire! " 

Fearless advance those Saxons, 

'Gainst the soldiers of the South, 
Close to the deadly barrels. 

Close to the musket's mouth. 
Two honoured silken banners. 

O'er the captive's breast they fling. 
In unison two voices 

With thrilling accents ring. 

Hold! vandals! from your conscience 

Have truth and justice fled ? 
And is the last scintilla 

Of Cortez' spirit dead ? 
Hold! guiltless is the sailor. 

Let your murderous purpose cease, 
A mighty nation's son spare. 

With whom ye are at peace ! 

" Mark Columbia's starry emblem, 

Victor by land and sea! 
Mark Saint George's banner royal, 

Let monarchs bend the knee! 
The Eagle guards her offspring, 

Let every foe beware : 



io8 The Seven Voices 

Fierce is the lion's fury, 

Attack them — if you dare! " 

Dazed is that Spaniard haughty 

By consuls' bravery ; 
Loosed are the binding fetters, 

And the innocent is free. 
Prayer is the Christian's banner, 

His citadel, his tower, 
A symbol, present ever, 

Of unseen, resistless power. 



JESUS' DYING WORDS. 

" Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." — St. Luke 
xxiii , 46. 

ON Calvary's gray mountain, 
O'er Kedron'.s lonely vale, 
Thy Lord of life is dying, 

Pierced by the cruel nail ; 
He cries, while trembling nature 

Walls of the temple rend : 

" Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 

When evening shadows lengthen, 

And westward sinks the sun, 
When the daily toil is finished. 

And the humble task is done ; 
Each night at my petition 

Thine ear of mercy lend : 
" Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 
109 



no The Seven Voices 

When darksome night is ended, 

And sunshine floods the skies, 
Again refreshed and gladsome, 

I with the lark arise ; 
Christ's dying words I utter. 

E'er thro' the world I wend: 
" Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 

When demons of temptation 

The faltering heart assail. 
Then from the victim struggling 

Is wrung the piteous wail ; 
" To rescue from perdition. 

Thy saving succour send : 
Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 

When by the hearthstone dreary 

Is placed the vacant chair, 
When grievous great affliction 

Seems more than I can bear. 
My haughty nature soften. 

And my earnest prayer attend : 
" Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 

When on earth's scenes familiar 
For the last time I gaze, 



Jesus' Dying Words 1 1 1 

With breath and life fast fleeting 

My hymn of praise I raise, 
Singing those words of Jesus, 

Then shall my soul ascend : 

Into Thy hands, O Father, 

My spirit I commend! " 



TRUST. 

SIGHS the soul by gloom oppressed, 
Cries the heart by fear distressed, 
When doth God show love to men ? ' 
Every-when ; 
" Where extends His special care ? " 
Every-where. 

Gentle heart, whence comes this fear ? 
Timid eye, why wells this tear ? 
E'en the birds that cleave the air. 

Ne'er despair: 
Swim the fishes in the sea, 

Trustfully. 



ANGLO-SAXON. 

ROUNDEL. 

DEAR mother-tongue, low lisped in in- 
fancy ! 
Through darkest lands thy words of light are 
flung; 
Bard, statesman, orator, gain power from thee. 
Dear mother-tongue. 

The wide world round thy trumpet-tones have 

rung! 
More own thy sway, this day, o'er land and 

sea, 
Than any speech, men civilized among. 

For aught we know, when, in eternity, 

Of Moses and the Lamb the song is sung 
By saints redeemed, thine will those accents be, 
Dear mother-tongue! 



FAME. 

ROUNDEL. 

A LIVING name— magnet man's life to 
sway I 
High hope his heart inspires, that he may 
claim 
When tablets crumble, monuments decay, 
A living name. 

Sink would the line e'er finny prizes came, 
Save for the float on surface of the bay : 
So deeds, man's life-Hne, from oblivion claim. 

Fain would each mortal some word write or 
say. 
That by the finger of immortal fame. 
His own be written, e'er he pass away, 

A living name. 



THE FLOWER FAYS. 



FRESH is the air as the breath of heaven; 
The flowers of Eden are all unborn ; 
Earth's purity still by man unmarred : 

'T is the holy morn of creation's 
dawn. 

Now cutting the petals, now 
moulding the buds, 
On every hillside an elfin fay, 

With hues iridescent and ten- 
derest touch, 

flower is tinting at break of day. 

the mountain's breast two rainbows 
rest, 
slight that the graceful trees shine 
through, 

fays, when seeking for pigments 
rare, 
brushes dip in prismatic dew. 

To Jaqueminot Palace, on gossamer wing, 
Comes flying a fairy addressing the queen: 




The Flower Fays 



119 



" Without name, without colour, one blossom 
remains 
Undiscovered, the heartsease and daisies be- 
tween. 



" 'Neath a jasmine-leaf she nestles 
her head. 

Thus hiding her face by a veil of green; 
On a cushion of moss reclining her form, 

The tiniest flower that ever was seen." 

" All colours are given," so muses the 
queen, 
" Tints soft, rich, and radiant every one. 
E'en the form of the star, and the pink of 
the shell 
Nought, alas, now remains, save the sky 
and the sun ! 

" There 's no hue so true as the heaven's 
blue, 
And the sun denotes fervour till time 
grows old ; 
She the emblem shall be of constancy, 
Her mantle of azure, her tresses of gold.' 




" Nameless, unknown," the floweret cries, 
" Exist for aye, ah, let me not! " 

As near she flies, the queen replies, 

" Thy name shall be ' Forget-me-not.' " 







BRIGHT lily, starry-form, belle of Bermuda, 
Destined a wanderer ever to roam. 
Sighing for kiss of the warm southern zephyr, 
Exile for aye from thy sea-island home. 

Golden thy stamens as Jupiter's goblet. 
Argent thy raiment as twin star above. 

Sap is thy heart-blood, leaves only words idle. 
Good actions are flowers, thy fragrance is 
love. 

Speed on thy mission, fair Hebe 'mong lillies, 
Pleasure dispensing, where'er thou may'st 
come ; 
Welcome to thee in thy land of adoption, 
Exile for aye from thy sea-island home. 



TO V. H. F. 

RAY of the RUBY with radiance streaming, 
Kindle mankind with thy beam born 
above, 
High lift our hearts beyond earth's empty 
dreaming. 
Symbol of sympathy, symbol of love. 

Light of the amethyst, gentle, refining. 
Emblem of suffering martyrs endure. 

Pleasure resigning, but never repining, 
Fearlessly faithful, and peerlessly pure. 

Truth, gleam triumphant, lead onward before 
us. 
Sapphire shine with cerulean hue! 
Keystone of Heaven's high dome arching o'er 
us. 
Robe of St. John — ^true and beautiful blue. 

Hymen, thy rich golden TOPAZ is brightest. 
Softening sorrow and lengthening life ; 



122 The Seven Voices 

Wrongs many thou Tightest, man's load making 
lightest, 
By God's choicest blessing — a true-hearted 
wife. 

Like wavelet earth's joys from our feet are re- 
treating. 
Like cloud in blue ether fast melting away, 
Life's labours completing, death's terrors de- 
feating, 
Hope, shed on our pathway thine emerald 
ray. 

From high heaven bending, these colours de- 
scending. 
Unite in WHITE light from impurities free. 
Thy gladsome way wending, to glory unending. 
These traits are all blending, Virginia, in 
thee. 








LITTLE HE AND SHE. 

TWO fairy figures beginning to walk, 
Two tiny treasures attempting to talk, 
Lightly tripping it over the lawn. 
Breathing the breath of the early morn : 
Upon the sand. 
With hand in hand. 
Pebbles seeking by the sea, 
Darling little he and she. 



Two little dainty forms, slender and trim, 
Two rosy faces 'neath panama brim. 
Two eyes of chocolate, two eyes of gray, 
Gleaming with sunny smiles every day: 
Flowing dresses, 
Curling tresses. 

Brimming o'er with gladsome glee, 
Happy little he and she. 
123 



124 The Seven Voices 

Airily, merrily, 'mong the flocks. 
Wandering over Rhode Island's rocks. 
Long may your lives be bright with joy, 
My winsome girl, and my noble boy : 
Footsteps patter, 
Voices chatter. 
Priceless gems are ye to me, 
Precious little he and she. 








DEAR CHUBBY HAND. 

ROUNDEL. 

DEAR chubby hand of rosy tender years, 
Whose hardest work is building forts of 
sand, 
Or tigers taming, cut with tailor's shears — 
Dear chubby hand. 

Some day, perchance, serving thy native land. 
Deeds thou may'st do which all mankind 
reveres, 
Great senates sway, or armaments command. 

If thou seek truth, not what but true appears, 
Defend the right, ever the wrong withstand. 
Thou shalt be felt in both the hemispheres — 
Dear chubby hand. 




125 




MAYFLOWER. 



ROUNDEL. 



, nv,^ OWEET Mayflower, slight and slender, 
""Y^^ O Born in May, like bud in bower, 
Bright and gladsome, pure and tender, 
Sweet Mayflower. 

Once in dark and stormy hour, 

Proved a Mayflower faith's defender. 
Steered by the Almighty power. 

So may God protect, defend her, 

And should clouds of sorrow lower, 
Heavens choicest blessings send her, 

Sweet Mayflower. 




s^^ 



MY KOH-I-NOOR. 

WRITTEN TO M. C. H. 



ROUNDEL. 



M 



Y Koh-i-noor no jewel e'er outvied, 
ngeless 
endure, 



Changeless for thee shall glowing Ic 



My wife for aye, and still for aye a bride, 
My Koh-i-noor. 

Forming right royal diadem's contour, 

Thou with thy little pearls on either side, 
Regalia ne'er held priceless gems more pure. 

If dark and dreary days should e'er betide. 
May I be spared to keep from ill-secure. 
From storm to shield, from every harm to hide, 
My Koh-i-noor. 



127 



BROKEN HEART. 

ONLY an infant sleeping, 
Sleeping its life away ; 
Only an infant weeping, 
Sorrowing night and day. 

Only an empty bubble 
Is man's life here below; 

Only a tale of trouble. 

Of work, of worry, of woe. 

Only a moment of gladness, 
To meet, to love, to part; 

Only an age of sadness. 
Only a broken heart. 

Only a form by a river. 
Leaping beneath the wave 

Only a corpse, with a shiver, 
Laid in an unknown grave. 



12S 




TO H. R. H. 

HIGH on the Alps nestle chapels enshrining 
Saintly Madonna, 'mid pure virgin snow, 
Faith, in her eyes, and compassion combining. 
Ardently, earnestly, lovingly glow. 

Brilliant with moonlight is cloud's silver 
lining, 
Laughing with merriment, joyous with glee. 
Sparkling the wavelet 'neath golden sun 
shining. 
Glitters and gleams on the crest of the sea. 

Vine of the forest, strong oak intertwining, 
Pattern of tenderness, emblem of love. 

Canonized saints lower natures refining, 
Silently trustful are pointing above. 
129 



i-,o 



The Seven Voices 



Sister angelic, earth's pleasures resigning, 
Loyally loving, and tenderly true. 

Traits of the saint, vine, and wavelet com- 
bining, 
Accept Helen, darling, this tribute to you. 



TO M. C. H. 

IN the springtide, by the brookside, when the 
evening shadows fall, 
In the twilight, oft I listen, listen, to the lin- 
net's call. 

At the wondrous hues I marvel as they bright 

and brighter grow, 
Thousand iridescent splendours of the sunset's 

afterglow — 

Diamonds, rubies, pearls outdazzling all the 
gems of Persia's Shah, 

Brilliant coronet of Phoebus, in the sky's re- 
galia. 

From the cheek of modest maiden, crimson 

blushes fade away. 
So the flush of rosy sunset, ebbs with life of 

dying day. 

131 



132 The Seven Voices 

Calm and calmer grow my heartbeats, while the 

shadows slowly march, 
And the earth is soothed to slumber 'neath the 

sombre twilight arch. 

Then one gentle star appearing, watches over 
land and sea, 

Like the eye of Guardian Angel looking lov- 
ingly on me. 

So with influence refining, in my horoscope of 

hfe, 
One bright star is ever shining, and that star is 

thou, sweet wife. 



>i.ft 



IM"^ 





THK CHASE.* 

PAW, prance, 
Neigh, snort, 
Loud, clear, shrill, short, 
Chafe, champ, play, dance. 
Rear, jump, plunge, cavort! 

At the portal bridled, ready, 
Charger highly mettled waits. 

Staunch and sturdy, strong and steady, 
Longing to outstrip his mates. 

Quick, dash, 

Break not, 
Though huge branch crash, 
Though thick m.ud splash, 
Trot, trot, trot, trot, 



134 



The Seven Voices 




Fast through the forest the hunters are hieing, 
Stirring the blood as they cover the ground, 
Swiftly the fleet-footed fillies are flying. 

Onward and upward with leap and a bound. 
Climbing sagaciously. 
Stepping vivaciously, 
Galloping gayly they follow the 
hound. 

Haste up the hillside, and dart 
through the dingle, 
Woodland, and moorland, alert 
for the fray ; 
j How the blood courses, and how 
'"' the veins tingle. 

Swimming and skimming o'er 
river and brae I 

Deftly and skilfully. 
Wildly and wilfully, 
Booted and spurred, we are off 
and away. 

Long waving arms of the many-hued maple, 
Clad in rich raiment of crimson and gold, 
Storm-gnarled oak, and the tender-voiced 
aspen, 
Each to the riders a welcome has told. 
Bodies unbending, 
Welcome extending. 
Flowers are swaying their forms manifold. 



The Chase 



i:5 



Now the fog grows thicker, thicker. 
While the pace is quick, and quicker, 
Hark the huntsman's horn is ringing 

glad and merry sound. 
Forward faster, faster, faster, 
Spurring, speed the horse and 

master, 
Fence and ditch and brooklet 

meeting, 
But thev clear them with a bound. 



Hark the rain-drops patter, patter, 
Hark the footfalls clatter, clatter, 
Through the glowing golden val- 
ley 
With its fields of waving grain ; 
How the flitting hours are flowing, 
How the homeing herds are low- 
ing. 
As returning in the gloaming we 
are roaming o'er the plain. 



with a 




Stars are peeping. 
Shadows creeping. 
Weary mortals. 
Welcome portals. 
Home-bound, 
Rest found. 



^- / 




LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE 
WORLD.* 

ALL hail to thee, Liberty, goddess majestic, 
With Sister Republic far over the sea, 
Our sympathies blending, in union unending, 

A welcome, warm welcome, 
thrice welcome to thee ! 



Metis wed Jupiter, France weds 
Bartholdi, 
To millions the marvellous 
tale shall be told, 
How Liberty leaped from the 
brain of her sire. 
As from Jupiter's head sprang 
Minerva of old. 



Eit emblem is bronze formed of earth's choicest 
metals, 
All melted, well moulded, and wrought into 
one; 

136 



Liberty Enlightening the World 137 

Columbia in one mighty nation combining 
Greek, Russian and Roman, Celt, Saxon and 
Hun. 



In Europe's proud monarchies great the re- 
joicing 
When princes are born to the thrones of the 

earth ; 
So, pageant of war, and artillery's salvos, 
Announce to the world noble Liberty's birth. 

Bright Empire's star in ascendant is beaming, 
With power unending this maid to endow, 

Igniting the torch the wide world to enlighten. 
Rests proudly forever on Liberty's brow. 

In Egypt there languished a people in bondage, 
Down-trodden, oppressed by tyrannical 
might. 
O'er Pharaoh triumphant, that nation of free- 
men, 
To a new land were led by a pillar of light. 

With radiance glowing, effulgence o'erflowing, 
The flame of the torch grasped in Liberty's 
hand, 
As beacon of light guides the world's weary 
pilgrim. 
O'er the desert of waves to the new " prom- 
ised land." 



138 The Seven Voices 

Then hail to thee, Liberty, goddess majestic. 
With Sister Republic far over the sea, 

Our sympathies blending, in union unending, 
A welcome, warm welcome, thrice welcome 
to thee! 



NOTES. 

YELLOW ROSES. 
Versified from an old story. 

RONKONKO^L•\.* 

Lake Ronkonkoma is on Long Island, midway between 
the north and south shores. It is nearly circular, about three 
miles in circumference, and though the water is perfectly 
fresh it is entirely surrounded by a beach of beautiful sand 
whence the lake derives its name. There is a tradition that 
its waters have a periodical ebb and i^ow once in seven years 
— see History of Long Island, by N. S. Prime. It has no 
visible inlet or outlet, and until recently was unfathomed. 
It is said that an object dropped into the lake passes by a 
subterranean channel into the Connetquot, the waters of which 
flow finally into the Great South Bay and Ocean. Long Is- 
land was called by the Indians " Sewanhacka," meaning the 
"Isle of Shells." 

MIRAGE OF MOUNT KAATERSKILL. 

* See " Rip Van Winkle," in Washington Irving's Sketch 
Book. 

\ Mahomet's coffin is said to remain suspended between 
heaven and earth. 

\ On the afternoon of July 23, 1884, a thunder-storm oc- 
curred on the top of the Catskill Mountains. Immediately 

139 



HO The Seven Voices 

after the storm had passed, the mirage here described was 
seen by the author of these lines. A large cloud was suspended 
in mid-heaven, directly over the Hudson River, and on it were 
distinctly portrayed the top of Mount Kaaterskill and the 
buildings on the summit of said mountain. The phenomenon 
was witnessed by several other people. It lasted only a few 
minutes and then faded away. 

SEA-SURF SONG, OR VOICE OF THE BREAKERS.* 

The first three lines of each verse represent the sound of 
three large waves rolling in and breaking ; the fourth line 
represents the water receding over the pebbly beach. 

MASCONOMO.* 

The beach referred to in the above lines is situated near 
Manchester-by-the-Sea, on the coast of Massachusetts. The 
sands, when trodden upon, give forth a musical sound at every 
footstep. They have thus become a subject of interest to sci- 
entific men, who are unable to account for the fact. A 
quantity of the sand has been taken to Washington for exami- 
nation. " Norman's Woe" is the name of the reef close by, 
on which the wreck of the Hesperus, described by Longfellow, 
occurred. " Masconomo " was an Indian chieftain who lived 
near the spot. 

LEGEND OF MORTERATSCII GLACIER.* 

The Morteratsch Glacier is situated near the village of 
of Pontresina, in the Engadine Valley, Switzerland. It is 
stated in A Voyage itt the SunbeaiH, by Mrs. Brassy, vol. ii., 
pp. 89 and 103, that Shintooism is the primitive faith of Japan, 
and that in Shintoo temples the Crystal Ball is considered of 
priceless value. 

THE POULPICAN.* 

According to the legends of the peasants of Bretagne, the 
Korrigans are tiny fairies who lived in the prehistoric Dolmens 



Notes 141 

which are said to have been built by the Poulpicans. The 
Kerrigans preside over fountains, beside which, once a year, 
they hold "high festival." They covet new-born children 
and change them for their own hideous dwarfs, which are 
called Poulpicans. The Korrigans are put to flight by sight 
of a priest. The peasants' cottages are built with overhanging 
roofs. Mistletoe suspended over the door, means that cider 
is sold within. 

CABOT.* 
Written on the four-hundredth anniversary (June 24, 1S97), 
of the discovery of the American Continent by Cabot. He sailed 
in the ship Matihe-w of Bristol. Bancroft says, that under a 
commission of King Henry VII., of England, " John Cabot, 
taking with him his son Sebastian, embarked. After sailing 
prosperously as he reported, for seven hundred leagues, on the 
24th of June, 1497, early in the morning, almost fourteen 
months before Columbus, on his third voyage, came in sight 
of the main, and more than two years before Amerigo Vespucci 
sailed west of the Canaries, he discovered the Western Contin- 
ent, probably in the latitude of about 56 degrees, among the dis- 
mal cliffs of Labrador. H e ran along the coast for many leagues, 
it is said even for three hundred, and landed. . . He planted 
on the land a large cross with the flag of England."— (George 
Bancroft's History of the United States from the Discovery of 
the American Continettt, 19th edition, Boston, 1862 and 1S63, 
vol. i., pp. 10, 11). Sebastian Cabot, a native of Bristol, on 
his second voyage, sailed from England May, 1498, with three 
hundred men, " for Labrador by way of Iceland, and reached 
the continent in the latitude of 58 degrees, and having pro- 
ceeded along the shores of the United States to the southern 
boundary of Maryland, or perhaps to the latitude of Albemarle 
Sound, want of provisions induced him to return to England." 
(Bancroft, Boston edition of 1841, vol. i., p. n.) Winsor 
says: " We now know . . . that John Cabot was the dis- 
coverer of America." — (Winsor's Narrative and Critical His- 
tory of America, vol. iii., p. 32.) 



142 The Seven Voices 

VE OLDEN TIME. 

* Albius Tibullus was " an eminent poet, who wrote several 
fine elegies." He was a " contemporary and friend of 
Horace." 

f L. Licinius Lucullus was the famous "general in the war 
against Mithradates, celebrated for his wealth." 

ORIGIN OF " HOLD THE FORT."* 

During October, 1864, while Sherman's army lay near 
Atlanta, Hood passed the right flank of Sherman, and com- 
menced the destruction of the railroad leading north. Sher- 
man's army was put in rapid motion following Hood, to save 
the supplies and larger posts, the principal of which was lo- 
cated at Altoona Pass, through which ran the railroad. Gen- 
eral Corse, of Illinois, was stationed here with about fifteen 
hundred men. A million and a half of rations were stored 
here, and it was highly important that the earthworks com- 
manding the pass and protecting the supplies should be held. 
Six thousand men, under command of General French, were 
detailed by Hood to take the position. The works were com- 
pletely surrounded and summoned to surrender. Corse refused. 
The defenders were driven into a small fort upon the crest of 
the hill. At this moment an officer caught sight of a white 
signal-flag far away across the valley fifteen miles distant, upon 
the top of Kenesaw Mountain. The signal was answered, and 
soon the message was waved across from mountain to moun- 
tain : " Hold the fort ; I am coming. Sherman." Cheered 
by the message, the garrison held the fort until Sherman's 
arrival made its capture impossible. 

LITTLE HE AND SHE. 

Written to G and K at the ages of two and three, 

respectively. 

DEAR CHUBBY HAND. 
Written to G at the age of four. 



Notes 143 



MAY FLOWER. 

Written to K at the age of six. 

THE CHASE.* 

The meter of these verses represents a horse chafing at the 
door, the start, the trot, canter, and return home. 

LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD.* 

Written on the occasion of unveiling the Bartholdi Statue, 
given by France to the United States and inaugurated in New 
York Harbour, October 28, 1886. 



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